The Name of Malfoy
by Princess Twila
Summary: WARNING: SIXTH BOOK SPOILERS IF YOU HAVE NOT READ/SEEN THE MOVIES.  My take on Lord Voldemort assigning Draco the task of killing Dumbledore.  Copious amounts of angst.  Rated T to be extremely safe.


The Name of Malfoy

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><p><span>Summary<span>: (IF YOU HAVE NOT YET READ OR SEEN THE HALF-BLOOD PRINCE, DO NOT READ THIS; CONTAINS SPOILERS) My take on Voldemort assigning Draco the task of killing Dumbledore.

Warnings: Utter and total angst.

Characters: Draco Malfoy, Lord Voldemort, Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange.

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><p>The family name. He had been taught his whole life to uphold the family name because of the power it held. Even when he had nothing else, the fact that he was a Malfoy could still be used for his benefit.<p>

And yet, for the first time in his life, Draco Malfoy did not have even this.

After the failed mission at the Ministry of Magic, Draco's father, Lucius Malfoy, was being blamed for the whole escapade. Lord Voldemort was very 'put out' with the Malfoys, to say the least.

Draco came home for summer break, knowing full well that while Lord Voldemort was not yet making his residence permanent at Malfoy Manor, he would still most likely be there. His mother had sent him an owl that she would be meeting him at Platform 9 ¾ while his father faced interrogation from Lord Voldemort. Draco inwardly cringed for his father.

As he stepped off of the train, he easily spotted his mother's dark hair streaked with pale strands. As he walked towards her, she opened her arms. Fighting back emotion, he stepped into her embrace; they would need the comfort of each other if they were to weather the troubles confronting them at the present.

Narcissa stepped back and held her son by the shoulders for a moment, looking him in the eyes. "Your father wishes you to become a Death Eater," she whispered to him, but her eyes flashed, showing her opinion on the matter. Draco swallowed.

The journey back to Malfoy Manor was tense and silent. All too soon the gates of Malfoy Manor loomed up in front of him before opening to allow him entrance to his home…his home. Never before had Malfoy Manor looked so much like a prison as it did now. Draco knew that he was not ready to proclaim his allegiances to the Dark Lord, and the likelihood that he would escape this summer unscathed, especially with his father's wishes made clear and Lord Voldemort maintaining a boarding status at the manor, was highly unlikely.

Lucius was standing on the front steps, waiting for Draco as he ascended. His father's gaze was intense, and his face had become more haunted and hollowed since he had last seen him. "Hello, father," he said quietly. Lucius inclined his head before sweeping back into the manor, giving a clear indication that Draco was to follow him. Dread weighing down his stomach, he followed his father through the foyer and into his father's study. Lucius walked to the window, facing away from his son, as Draco remained standing by the door after having closed it behind them.

"Your mother has already told you of my intentions," he stated. It was not a question; he already knew. Draco remained silent.

Lucius turned to face Draco now, the intensity of his gaze increasing. "You do realize that the Dark Lord believes that I am incompetent after what happened at the Ministry of Magic. Any trust he had in the Malfoy family has disappeared. We are nothing now!" Lucius cried, shaking. The words stung Draco like physical blows.

"We _must_ regain our esteem," Lucius whispered, but Draco heard his words as clearly as if his father were whispering them in his ear. "The only way to do that is to bring new blood into the mix. I cannot undo the past; there is no way for me to bring honor to the name of Malfoy any longer. You must take up the mantle, Draco. You must be the one to represent the Malfoys."

Draco closed his eyes, shuddering. He knew very well that he could not refuse his father, but he still was not ready to declare his allegiance. He was unsure of where he stood. All his life he had known the value of having pure blood, and he knew that blood quality was most important to him after the name of Malfoy. And yet, he had seen Lord Voldemort's methods of purification, and more often than not, the purebloods had been harmed in the same manner as the mudbloods. Where was the equality in that? And, to make matters worse, rumor had it that the Dark Lord himself was a halfblood.

"Draco…"

His father's voice snapped him out of his reverie. He opened his slate grey eyes, finally giving a mute nod. Some of the tension braided into his father's shoulders released itself, and his father gave a sigh of relief. He briskly walked out of the study. Draco remained standing by the door in shock. Narcissa came in and hugged him, cradling his head to her shoulder. "Oh my poor boy," she whispered. "I didn't want this for you." Draco choked back his feelings; he could not show weakness. He was a Malfoy.

Moments later Lord Voldemort came walking into the office. His red slit eyes were curious, his movements lithe and sinuous. Bellatrix Lestrange was close behind, her eyes wild and a maniacal smile plastered on her face. Fenrir Greyback, Nott, Avery, Mulciber, and other Death Eaters filed in after her. Lucius followed in last of all.

"So, Draco Malfoy, you wish to join our ranks?" Lord Voldemort gestured to the gathered Death Eaters. Draco nodded mutely again.

"Step forward."

Draco tentatively stepped forward, his heart pounding. He had been cornered, and there was no way for him to turn back. He took another step at Lord Voldemort's direction, and another and another, until he was standing directly in front of Lord Voldemort. He kept his eyes downcast, refraining from looking up into the Dark Lord's face.

"Look at me, boy," Lord Voldemort hissed. Draco trembled as he lifted his gaze to Lord Voldemort's. The Dark Lord's fierce red eyes bored into Draco's, and Draco could practically feel the fibers of his soul being examined and scrutinized.

"Your arm," the Dark Lord commanded. Draco slowly brought out his left forearm, turning it upside down and baring the pale flesh. Lord Voldemort brought the tip of his wand to Draco's skin, causing Draco to shudder once more.

"Morsmordre!" Lord Voldemort shouted, and Draco cried out as the spell burnt the Dark Mark into his flesh. He screamed and screamed as the mark of his allegiance became permanently maimed into his body. It was by far the most painful thing he had ever felt.

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><p>Draco regained consciousness to find himself lying on his bed in his room, his mother sitting next to him and stroking his forehead as his father paced by the windows. He raised his head to get a better view of his arm. It still throbbed, and the normally pale skin was an angry red around the black lines that now snaked over his arm in the shape of the Dark Mark. Draco grimaced, letting his head fall back onto the pillows.<p>

"Shh," Narcissa murmured, resuming stroking his forehead. Lucius glanced over to see that Draco had awakened. He walked briskly over to his son, stopping just short of the bed.

"The Dark Lord has already stated that he has an assignment for you," Lucius began. "I will go and inform him that you are awake and ready." With that, Lucius turned and walked out of the room, closing the doors behind him.

Draco was slightly alarmed that he already had an assignment, not even having been a Death Eater for an entire day. He looked at his mother, but she shook her head, silently stating that she knew not the nature of the assignment, either.

The doors opened, and Lord Voldemort came striding into the room, followed this time only by Lucius and Bellatrix. Bellatrix cackled upon seeing her nephew awake.

"Welcome to the ranks, Draco," she drawled. Lord Voldemort remained looking at Draco, and Draco did not dare look at him to see what he was planning for him.

"You have a new assignment," Lord Voldemort began. "As you know, the news of my reformation has finally been leaked to the public, and the resistance against me is growing. In order to take out the resistance and move ourselves into a position of greater power, we need to eliminate the wizards heading the resistance. Harry Potter is mine. But you, Draco…" the Dark Lord paused, and Draco felt his gaze being pulled up to Lord Voldemort's. "You, Draco, will kill Albus Dumbledore."

The room was absolutely silent as his words sank in. Draco blinked, unable to believe what he had just heard. Even Bellatrix was stunned at the announcement. Narcissa stood up, shaking.

"You cannot expect Draco, a mere boy, to kill Albus Dumbledore! He is a very powerful wizard! There is no way Draco would surv-"

"Silence, Narcissa!" Lucius shouted at her. Narcissa quieted, but her tremors grew in magnitude.

"How am I supposed to defeat him?" Draco whispered, directing his words to Lord Voldemort. "I'm nowhere powerful enough to kill him."

"You have until this time next summer to kill him. If you succeed, then the Malfoy family will once again be vaulted into my inner circles. If you fail…well, let it suffice to say that your own life will be forfeit." The Dark Lord's eyes gleamed at these last words. Narcissa swayed for a moment before fleeing from the room, doing her best to keep her sobs in check. All heads turned to watch her go. Lord Voldemort gave Draco one last glance before turning on his heel and walking out of the room with Bellatrix in tow.

Lucius walked over to his son. "You _must_ succeed, Draco," he whispered urgently. "Think of your family. Think of the name of Malfoy." Then he too left the room.

Finally Draco was alone. He stood up and paced over to the French windows, opening them to walk onto the terrace outside of his room. The cold air hit him in the face, clearing his head and giving him room to think through the events of the day. He had to kill Albus Dumbledore…he swayed on the spot, finally allowing terror to overtake his thoughts. Albus Dumbledore was a powerful wizard, even more powerful than the Dark Lord, and he, a sixteen-year-old boy, was supposed to kill him. Despair washed over him in wave upon wave, and a solitary tear leaked from his eye as his self-control wavered. Pushing it back into submission, he looked up to the sky as if it could offer him some answer.

If he did not succeed, the name of Malfoy would be forever disgraced. If he did not succeed, he would die.


End file.
